


Because Shia LaBeouf

by 19_empty_vacancies



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: 4 + 1 things, Capatin America: Civil War references, Charlie Ships It, Excessive Swearing, Fulton just gives up, M/M, Marriage Proposal, My Cousin Vinny reference, Steve Rogers needs to fuck the fuck off, modern day (kind of), or well attempted marriage proposal, romance is key, until it isnt, vague Welcome To Night Vale reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9436682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/19_empty_vacancies/pseuds/19_empty_vacancies
Summary: Fulton and Dean are idiots in love and if Averman says "romance is key" one more time they'll scream.Four times they tried to propose to each other and the one time it actually happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of my girl Leia texting me bashslash head canons to see my take on them and she gave me a killer fic idea that I just had to write up. So, for Leia and her unrelenting bashslash prompts that resulted in this hopefully alright fic.

**One. Dean.**

Romance.

Romantic.

He could do romantic. He does romantic crap all the fucking time. Just last week he bought home some fucking ripe ass bomb as fuck smelling mangoes as a surprise for Fulton because mangoes are the shit and they’re Fulton’s favourite fruit. Dean can totally do romantic, fuck you Averman for saying otherwise.

Okay so there’s a show going on at that stupid basement club that Fulton likes that he’s managed to score tickets to (which for some reason the guys heard about and decided to fucking tag along to because of fucking course they did. The ducks are so fucking co-dependant that it’s almost to the point of embarrassment.) and the plan is to do it before they enter the thriving mass of sweaty bodies jamming to some ska punk opener. Maybe while they’re at that diner that serves the killer pie?

Who fucking knows. He figures go with the flow, y’know? Just drop the question when it feels right.

Downside to this is the fact that he has to wait until Fulton gets back to their crumby apartment because he has class till six and the show is at nine and so has the next four hours to second guess himself and fuck this was a terrible idea.

“Spontaneity is romantic right? _My Cousin Vinny_ wouldn’t lie about this shit right?”

Questioning the ceiling while starfished on the bed is probably not how he should be handling this but it’s where he’s at at this point in time.

“Maybe I should just be spontaneous. Bitches love spontaneous. Not that Reed is a bitch. Or that women are bitches,” Dean absently scratched his stomach while pondering the merits of why that saying came into life. Who decided that there should be a “Bitches love ___”? Who that that was a good idea? It’s really just super fucking offensive and like, he’d seen Connie knock some asshole out because he’d said something similar to her friend so like, why did the person who came up with that think women would like that?

Shit, he’s off track.

“Fuck it, I’m gonna go down there. I’m going to sack up and go down to that fucking school and propose the shit outta Reed. His next class doesn’t start for like an hour. I got this.”

He’s so totally romantic.

Which is why after twenty minutes stuck on a weird smelling, so stuffy it’s actually really kind of heard to breathe bus and then shoving his way through crowded halls, Dean was finally in the same room as his boyfriend and about to propose. Or well, he was, until Adam came out of nowhere and grabbed Fulton’s arm and started babbling some shit about training.

Fulton didn’t even know he was there.

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

**Two. Fulton.**

“And then he had to leave because he had to go to his weird drama practice or something so I’m there, a full fucking spread laid out and he can’t stay because that _jerk_ Carlsberg went and fucked things up so he had to go in and fix everything.”

Charlie looked at the slumped form of one of his oldest friends and could feel that his eyes were super wide. Shit were they actually that wide? They probably were. Good thing Fulton couldn’t actually see them seeing as he was too occupied with repeatedly banging his forehead on their small coffee table and groaning.

Wincing slightly, Charlie reached out to move Fulton’s half full coffee back towards the middle of the table and away from the edge where it had slowly been progressing to thanks to his theatrics.  Positive that the coffee would be safe next to the sugar and decorative miniature cactus, Charlie shifted his focus back on his friend.

“You’ve tried three times?”

Fulton groaned.

“And each time it’s been interrupted?”

A groan.

“That’s super fucked up, dude.”

A longer, more pained groan.

“What happened this time, man?”

 _And he rises!_ Charlie mentally did victory arms as Fulton lifted his head and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

“Averman came outta nowhere and started running his mouth about Iron Man or some shit like that and Portman got so fucking pissed and they started arguing. Christ, Charlie.” Fulton shoved his hand through his hair, displaying the circle of red skin from banging his head. “Last time I was interrupted by Guy asking me to help him with some film he needed to do for some extra credit and then before that it was my sister just fucking waltzing into our apartment like she fucking owns the joint.”

Charlie quirked his mouth at the idea of Fulton’s sister waltzing in without a care. For all the posturing that both Dean and Fulton did, being on the ice aside, they really couldn’t have been more passive. Fulton shrugged and grabbed his cup, eyes distant. “Maybe I’ll try when I get home.”

Charlie was both impressed and disgusted at the fact that Fulton just knocked back the remains of his cup in two swallows. His mind gave him images and ideas (that he really didn’t want to consider) as a faint insight as to what situations that would come in handy.

“Buy him that indigestion in a box he likes. Y’know, that super suss Chinese food that makes even Goldberg wary and do the thing while you guys watch a movie or something.”

“Yeah,” a smile graced Fulton’s face for the first time since they’d been out. “I’ll do that and it’ll be romantic as shit, fuck what Averman thinks.”

Raising his cup, Charlie grinned, “That’s the spirit!”

 

When he let himself in the apartment (read: stumbled in because was juggling his backpack, a huge as shit sack of Chinese food and a bag of drinks) it was to see Portman crashed out face down on the couch, still dressed in his work uniform and with unopened Chinese food set on the coffee table.

“Aw, come on,” Fulton muttered. “That’s just not fair.”

Sighing, Fulton walked into the kitchen and set everything down, making sure to put the food and drinks in the fridge before returning back to sleeping partner. Grey eyes flicked over Portman’s prone form, the corner of Fulton’s mouth ticking up before he bent down with a groan to hoist Portman off the couch and into a fireman’s lift.

Moving through the small apartment, Fulton thanked their inability to close doors behind them and walked into their bedroom and deposited his sacked out boyfriend onto the unmade bed. Marvelling at the fact that holy shit how can he seriously not have woken up during any of this, Fulton leaned down to get Dean out of his jeans before covering him with the blanket.

“Sweet dreams, amigo,” Fulton whispered before going back to eat the Chinese his boyfriend left out.

Thank god Chinese food tastes better the second day.

 

* * *

 

**Three. Dean.**

He blinked slowly as he drank his coffee. It was slowly heating him up, thawing him from the cold apartment that froze him despite his many layers the moment he stepped out of their toasty bedroom. Money is too tight to have heating throughout the place so they put it where it mattered most and suffered the rest of the time. It wouldn’t be too long before he had to leave for work and he wanted to get as much caffeine in him as possible.

Why the fuck did he think signing on as a part time baker would be a good idea? On top of his school work and other job? How was it a good idea? It meant he had to drag himself out of bed at the ass crack of dawn and then suffer watching Fulton frown slightly in his sleep before the arm he’d previously been under reach out for his pillow to pull close.

Inhaling the steam slowly rising from his cup, Dean flicked his gaze up to look at the little clock on the stove to see how much longer he could drag his coffee out before he had to leave.

He had plenty of time for another coffee. Fuck yeah.

He’d just finished stirring in the sugar when he heard a faint shuffling behind him, the only warning before a pair of pale hands partially obscured by the sleeves of two different jumpers slipped around his stomach and a forehead was dropped onto his shoulder with a groan.

Huffing out a soft laugh, Dean turned to press his lips to the closest part of Fulton’s head. “Good morning, hotshot.”

“Yeah it’s morning, _good_ however, it is not.”

Ah shit.

“Dreams again?”

Fulton sighed, blowing warm air down Dean’s neck as he shifted so his cheeked was against Dean’s shoulder. “Yeah. Fuck man, the last thing I needed before finals was flashes of that asshole and those fists. Woke up and all I could hear was shouting.”

Dean sighed and pulled another cup out from the shelf by his head. “That shit is over now, man. Your mom got you guys out.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

Spooning in two sugars, Dean thought about how easy it would be to just go to the bedroom and dig out the ring from where he stashed it and present the box to Fulton. The vision was so clear, sleep rumpled Fulton leaning on his fist while battling sleep, his hair a complete mess. He could give him a little bit of good before he had to leave for work.

Sighing, he slid the coffee down the counter so Fulton to reach it easily.

It _would_ be good, but not while he still has those flashes of memories echoing throughout his mind. He wouldn’t believe it was real and there’s nothing Dean hates about Fulton’s dad more than causing that feeling inadequacy to develop.

Maybe next time.

 

* * *

 

**Four. Dean.**

Dean had never been more in love with his boyfriend than in this moment, listening to him rant as they walked out of the cinemas, face red and hands gesturing wildly while Adam nodded along with what he was saying. The both of them looked so serious that it was kind of hilarious and thank God Germaine suggested a group outing to the cinemas.

“Steve just needs to fuck the fuck off. Like seriously. Did he not understand just how far off of the reservation he was? And bringing in people who have either never met Tony or are working off of completely biased information was just so fucking stupid. God I hate him in this movie. Bucky and Tony deserved so much more than what they got.” Fulton sighed frustrated and pushed a hand through his hair.

Adam was in a very similar state. “Did Steve not realise that Tony was missing his arc reactor? Like, it’s kind of hard to miss that fact that your team mate no longer has a glowing chest. And he just crushed the shield into his armor. Stark was probably still recovering from reconstructive surgery, not to forget that he probably had a minor heart attack earlier in the film.”

Charlie moved so he was walking beside Dean to shoot him a grin. “We’re probably going to be hearing about this for the rest of the year, aren’t we?”

Connie sidled up on Dean’s other side with a laugh. “I guarantee you that throughout the year there will just be bursts of, how did Reed put it? “Steve needs to fuck the fuck off” and Adam saying something very angry in agreement.” Connie slapped her arm across Dean’s stomach to hit Charlie’s arm. “Got no one to blame but yourself my friend.”

The aggressive agreement that Steve Rogers was Completely Out Of Line (capitals were definitely mandatory with his group of nerds) got louder as Germaine and Goldberg joined in.

“Your dearly beloved is about to punch Goldberg,” Averman called over Dean’s right shoulder. “I think Goldberg said Steve was justified or something.”

Dean groaned out a very heartfelt _“Shit!”_ before moving to intercept his boyfriend’s lunge. Dean got his shoulder in his stomach before roughly grabbing Fulton around his middle, lifting him up and turned Fulton away from Goldberg. “Okay guys, this is our cue to leave. We’ll see you at practice tomorrow. Say goodbye, Reed.”

“Fuck you, Portman.”

 

When they got back to their apartment Fulton was still raving about Steve Rogers and his jerk squad and at some point, he’d managed to suck Dean into the conversation and so they were both arguing the same side because they were in agreement that Rogers was totally out of line because they understood each other and supported each other and that’s what couples did. Support each other in their beliefs, which at this point in time happen to be that Civil War itself just needs to get out, just, just get the fuck outta here.

Having exhausted his points on the movie, Fulton collapsed on the couch with a sigh. “Tell you what though,” he said, leaning his head against the back of the couch, “Bucky Barnes was fucking _fit_ in this movie.”

Dean raised his eyebrow as he walked into the kitchen to get them a drink. “Are you saying I’m not fit? Because I have a lot to offer anatomically, my man.”

He heard Fulton snort.

Well, fuck you too then.

“Oh, I’m well aware how much you got to offer and you’ll never hear me complain. I’m not saying you’re not hot man, just saying Barnes was looking good.”

Dean walked over and held a glass of water over Fulton’s shoulder and when he grabbed it, walked around to sit beside him. “So, you ever going to watch the movie again?”

Fulton sighed, “Probably not, purely because I hate the way they’ve directed the course of the group.” Dean nodded, shorthand between them for ‘fair enough’ and lifted his own glass of water to mouth. Fulton sat there for a minute in silence before nudging into his shoulder. “Want me to start dinner?”

Dean smiled slightly at now he’d calmed, Fulton’s voice went back to that calm, kind of quiet tone. “Yeah, man, if you don’t mind.”

Now would be a good time to spring the proposal. Fulton wouldn’t suspect a thing and he’d relaxed again (they were _never_ going to watch Civil War again. Fuck that, Dean refused to being the level headed one when it came to fighting with the ducks.) and he could get it out and it would be perfect.

Decision made, Dean pushed himself up and walked to their bedroom to dig around in their closet for the shoe box he kept all his treasures in. Smiling in success he grabbed the small box and shoved the closet door closed before walking back out.

“Hey, Fulton--”

His phone rang. Groaning, Dean fished it out of his pocket to see just who it was and the groan doubled in length when he saw it was his mom. Christ this conversation would last at least an hour.

Sealing his fate, Dean hit answer and shoved the hand holding the ring box into his pocket.

“Hey, mom.”  

 

* * *

 

**\+ One. Fulton.**

Fulton was feeling pretty frigging good. After fifteen failed attempts at romance and romantic gestures he’d just said fuck it. Fuck it, who needs romance anyway? We’ve never been hardcore romantic before in our relationship why the fuck should we change that now? So he didn’t do anything romantic, didn’t do anything that required pressure or any potential interruptions.

It was a thing of beauty, not having to worry about asking anymore.

Fulton leans against the kitchen counter, warm coffee cradled against his sternum as he watched grainy early morning cartoons their tiny television. He could hear the sound of Dean moving around in their room and then, “Whoa, whoa, what the fuck? When the? What the fuck?”

Fulton smirked into his cup.

A loud crash was followed by Dean storming through their door, face creased from his pillow and hair sticking up on one side, hastily shoving another jumper on while he glared at Fulton who was definitely not laughing at him. Nope, no siree, Fulton laugh at his boyfriend of six years? Pssht no, what? No.

Dean jerked his hand up and turned it to show a silver braided ring. “What the fuck is this?”

“Well shit, Dean, it kinda looks like a ring to me.”

“I know what it is, doofus, what the fuck does it mean?”

Fulton raised a single pale eyebrow. “It means whatever the fuck you want it to mean?” Portman gave him a pretty spectacular bitch face which made lead to Fulton rolling his eyes. “It’s an engagement ring.”

“Okay. And I woke up wearing it because?”

Fulton shrugged and sipped his coffee. “I figured I’ve put up with your ass for this long man, if I can last this long  what’s the rest of our lives? And like, the law passed so now it’s an option so why the fuck not?”

Dean groaned and rubbed his face. “But why did I wake up with it on?”

“I fucking got sick of getting interrupted and listening to Averman’s pep talks on romance or some shit like that and figured at least this way it’s spontaneous or something so I guess that’s a plus or something. You done? I want to see who the guy in the mask is.”

Dean dropped his hands and looked at Fulton with a frown. “That’s gotta be the most unromantic thing you have ever fucking said to me you piece of shit. I fucking accept.”

This statement was immediately followed with Portman storming back to their bedroom to make a lot of noise before he reappeared.

“Here, gotta match and all that.”

Fulton barely had time to put his cup of coffee down to catch the box that Dean threw at him. After some seriously embarrassing fumbling, Fulton managed to open it to see a thick silver ring and smiled. “Awesome.”

Dean finally smiled, gaze dropping first to his ring and then up to lock straight onto Fulton’s cup. “Is there any more of that or did you drink all of it already?”

Laughing, Fulton vaguely gestured over his shoulder. “Kitchen, man.”

 

Whatever happens, Fulton will never, **EVER** tell Portman that the reason he just went and did the thing with the ring is because his sister sent him that stupid ‘Just Do It’ video and he watched it three times before sacking up.

(This vow was immediately thrown out the window when Dean showed his sister the ring and she did victory arms while shouting “DO IT!”)


End file.
